


Framed In Shadow

by CourierNinetyTwo



Category: RWBY
Genre: Bondage, F/F, Knifeplay, Nonbinary Character, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-09
Updated: 2014-06-09
Packaged: 2018-02-04 00:22:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1760607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CourierNinetyTwo/pseuds/CourierNinetyTwo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Years of working together doesn't mean Weiss and Blake have everything settled. Set in Future AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Framed In Shadow

**Author's Note:**

> Androgynous!Blake so them/their pronouns are used. Everything portrayed is consensual, negotiated and between consenting fictional adults.

_"Lift your head."_

Weiss’ eyes flickered up to meet bright gold ones, her chin raising a mere centimeter in defiance. The force of Blake’s slap was dizzying, pain flaring from chin to cheek before the sting settled into a low throb. The leather of the Faunus’ glove hadn’t provided any padding to the blow; if anything, it had made the impact more blunt, radiating all the way up the line of her jaw. A gasp was torn from Weiss’ throat as the fingers of Blake’s other hand slid into her hair, long since yanked free of its ponytail, and pulled, forcing her neck back at such an angle that her throat was bare, exposed.

“Was that so difficult?” The Faunus’ head tilted slightly to the left, a predator taking in the sight of wounded prey.

Swallowing past the dryness in her mouth, Weiss’ jaw tightened. “You’re a brute.”

The second slap was to her other cheek, the skin unmarked, but it hurt a bit more since she had tensed rather than relaxing to accept it. Her face was far from the only place she was sore; this had all began with spending nearly an hour on all fours under Blake’s boots, serving as a footrest while the Faunus sat and paged through a book, ignoring her completely.

By the time her knees had started to feel stiff, Weiss had muttered a curse out of boredom and frustration, breaking the rule that furniture was meant to be used and not heard. That was all it had taken to be pulled up and over into Blake’s lap, spanked until red and pink overwhelmed the curve of her ass.

Not content to let the humiliation end there, insult was added to injury when Weiss had been tied to Blake’s chair, the unbreakable length of Gambol Shroud’s ribbon weaving through the slats and binding her arms back from elbow to wrist. The remainder was looped down around both ankles and drawn taut, denying her the mercy of moving more than a few inches. No matter how she shifted or squirmed, there was no relief from the muscle-deep ache left behind by the spanking, never permitting her to forget that the Faunus could leave marks anywhere, relentlessly claim every inch of her body.

“Give me a better answer.” Blake said, cupping one cheek.

The leather was warm and soft against her skin and Weiss had to resist the urge to lean into the touch, despite the fact that it would mean her hair was pulled even harder. “No, it wasn’t difficult.”

Velvet-lined ears twitched, the Faunus’ expression held still as a statue’s for a long moment. “No, what?”

“No,” Weiss bit her lip as her eyes dropped to the floor, “No, sir.”

The title Blake preferred could change —  _sir_  or  _ma’am_  was most common, swaying with the Faunus’ mood — although there were times they abstained from using one completely, preferring the intimacy of a name to the distance of hierarchy.

Tonight, however, the lines had been sharply drawn and while Weiss might flirt with rebellion, she would never risk blatant disrespect. Restraint of her words was as compelling as restraint of her limbs, the urge to thrash and curse and scream curtailed by the singular promise of punishment. Blake was never cruel; there was no need to be, not when the Faunus kept complete control. Everything offered was desired, every limit Weiss’ explicit design. There was no more foolproof prison than the one built inside her own head, after all.

“Stay.” Blake said, tapping her chin with one knuckle before withdrawing.

Weiss kept her head raised as Blake moved out of her line of sight, footsteps too quiet to discern the Faunus’ path until she heard a zipper yanked open and the muted rattle of metal. No matter how even she kept her breath, there seemed to be no way to stop the sudden quickening of her pulse, fluttering like wild birds were trapped in her chest and throat. Instinct bade her to tug at the loops of the ribbon, searching for some slack, but Blake’s web of knots were impeccable; loose enough for the flow of blood, tight enough to deny any thought of escape.

She watched as the Faunus set a black pouch on the bed in front of her, undoing the tie around its center and rolling each side open to reveal its contents. The hilts of half a dozen blades stood out from dark, woven sheaths, each with their own unique design. Blake seemed to take in each of them with a good amount of curiosity, fingers lingering over one knife before deviating to another. Weiss knew every curve and heft, which edges were serrated and smooth, but the knowledge brought no comfort as Blake undid each button on their sleeves, rolling them up to the elbows and neatly tucking the fabric. It only meant one thing; the Faunus was going to do something that had otherwise risked staining the shirt.

The blade with the white oak handle was chosen, Blake’s fingers gently cradling the guard as it was drawn free. When the knife was turned over, light caught on the sharpened edge, clean as the day as it was forged. Weiss felt a soft, fearful laugh bubble up her throat; how strange that she had spent so many years as a huntress, slain honest-to-Dust monsters and dared near the edge of death more times than she cared to count, only to find all courage slip from her body at the sight of six inches of steel. She was trembling by the time Blake stood in front of her again, but her head hadn’t moved at all, throat offered as if in supplication.

“You’re so beautiful, Weiss.” The Faunus cradled her jaw once more, thumb fondly rubbing over the spot on her cheek that had taken the brunt of the first slap.

Where the warmth of Blake’s glove was an anchor, grounding her to the moment, the flat of the blade being pressed to the other side of her face made Weiss gasp. It was cold against her overheated skin, prompting a shiver from head to toe. The Faunus kept completely still until the her shaking ceased, the weight of that amber gaze calming the whiplash of adrenaline.

No anger or judgment ever passed through Blake’s expression, serene as a priest offering a blessing, centered and strong. If Weiss shattered, she would be forgiven, but she wouldn’t permit herself to buckle so easily. They loved one another, the bonds of trust acting like a salve as she turned her head and kissed the Faunus’ leather-clad palm, playfully nipping the material with her teeth. She was ready.

The path of the knife was slow and deliberate, tracing from just below her ear down to the hollow of her throat. Weiss let out a soft huff of breath even though there was no pain, simply the tip pressuring her skin as Blake started to map out every powder blue vein, using the dull back of the blade when they teased against the artery in her neck.

It was masterful, the liquid shift of the Faunus’ wrist compensating for the angle of each collarbone before moving to the softer curves of her shoulder. If she twitched or struggled, Weiss knew she would be cut, but the lines Blake raised across her flesh never bled, swallowed back beneath her flesh as soon as the red faded away.

When the knife hesitated between her breasts, Weiss bit back a whimper. “Please.”

“Be specific.” Blake warned, twisting the tip of the blade to make a point. It still didn’t draw blood, but Weiss could feel her skin yearning to part under the pressure; a sharp inhale was all it would take—

“More.” She gasped.

The Faunus’ mouth quirked in a wicked, toothy smile. A pang of loss tightened Weiss’ throat as the hand on her cheek eased away, only to let loose a helpless moan when one breast was cupped, squeezed hard enough to bruise. Where Blake’s fingers didn’t grip, the knife did its work, drawn along pale skin until her nipple hardened and betrayed her arousal.

Weiss’ hands clenched into tight fists behind her back as her other breast was given the same treatment, the flat of the blade pressed against the underside and held there. The chill of the steel was gone, having leeched away the heat from her body, but there was no forgetting the weight and bite it held, not when it was so close she could hear the rasp against her skin as Blake started a new trail down her stomach.

Weiss fought not to wince as the Faunus’ attention focused there. Almost every inch of Blake’s body was hard and lithe, owed only in part to a boosted metabolism; they took their job as head of security with grave seriousness, keeping to a fitness regime that bordered on obsessive. She had walked into the Faunus’ office more than once to find Blake doing pushups or situps while monitoring the camera feeds, ready to spring into action with a second’s notice.

While she used the treadmill in the company gym at times and let Ruby run her ragged when the huntress was home and in the mood to throw some weights around, Weiss knew the prime of her own hunting days had been almost completely displaced by work behind a desk. Without the constant vigor enforcing the wiry frame she carried as a teenager, rigid muscle had slowly filled out to softer curves.

No one had ever commented, much less complained, but sometimes a gnawing voice in the back of her head whispered the right words to beset her with guilt. That voice was choked off and gagged as soon Blake sank down to both knees to outline each stretch mark, etched like jagged white ink near her belly and flare of her hips, with hot swipes of their tongue.

Weiss wished more than ever that her hands were free to comb through the Faunus’ pitch black hair, stroke the back of furred ears, but the reminder for her restraint came when the path of Blake’s mouth was followed twice over with the knife, raising the areas in relief like her body was a sculpture, details coaxed from the marble. It was drawing attention, reverence, and Weiss felt tears prick at the corner of her eyes before a muted sniffle chased them away.

Fear toyed with her heartbeat once more as Blake set the flat of the blade against the inside of her thigh, where blood was held closest to the surface. The tip of the knife pierced the wooden seat of the chair, proving it was sharp as it appeared, but Weiss whined with need instead of terror as the Faunus’ other hand dropped down between her legs to offer a teasing stroke against her folds. She was wet enough that threads of clear liquid clung to Blake’s glove as it was withdrawn, threatening to soak into the leather.

“You’ve been so good,” Blake kissed the top of her thigh before glancing upward, forcing their eyes to meet, “but I’m not done with you yet.”

Weiss shivered at the dark promise in the words as the Faunus stood up straight, leaving the knife where it had been stuck before disappearing behind her again. She couldn’t help but focus on the blade and the rapidly disappearing marks it had left behind, looking for any tinge of red, a rust-colored drop of blood, but Blake hadn’t faltered once and her body was whole. Weiss stiffened a bit in surprise when her hair was gently tugged, not to chastise, but ensuring that no absent strands were stuck between her and the back of the chair. Even with the gloves separating her from true contact with the Faunus’ hands, she relaxed into the grooming as a few tangles were combed out, hair brushed away from her brow.

The reason for the care became apparent as a silk blindfold was dangled over her head and into her frame of vision. Rather than speak, Weiss gave a small nod, closing her eyes as soon as Blake lay the length of fabric across them, the knot to keep it in place tied with quick, practiced fingers. With that particular sense denied, she had to rely on her ears more than ever, but she felt the Faunus lean over her before Weiss heard a breath or hum of pleasure, one hand encircling the base of her throat as the other delved back between her thighs and started to work against her clitoris with quick, demanding strokes.

“Oh, Bl—” Weiss barely choked back her lover’s name, having almost cried it out in shock, but if the Faunus had noticed the lapse in the broken syllable, there was no response other than the slick friction of leather pressing harder against the sensitive bud.

Every time her knees tried to force themselves together, wanting to trap Blake’s hand in place, the knife made contact with the inside of her thigh and Weiss recoiled with a gasp. She shook as her ankles and shoulders strained fiercely against the bonds of the ribbon, but there was no freedom to be found, only the constant of the Faunus’ touch. She wasn’t being silenced by the hand at her throat; there was only a firm presence rather than squeezing tight, Blake’s weight against the chair keeping it steady despite her squirming.

It was too much, pleasure winding into tight coils low in her abdomen, hips canting forward out of sheer desperation. “Please, can I—”

“You can come.” The words were a whisper against the top of her hair, but Weiss heard it with all the strength of a shout.

Bliss rushed through her limbs, burning white hot as Blake’s fingers continued their forceful rhythm, wringing out each lightning-quick pulse of ecstasy until Weiss sagged in the chair, head resting back against the Faunus. Dimly, she could feel a rectangle of metal, realizing a moment later that it had to be Blake’s belt buckle she was pressed up against. It took another moment for her blood to cool, breath falling back into its regular cadence. Blinded as she was, the sensation was somewhat disconcerting until she flexed her hands and ankles, finding her balance by testing the boundaries of her bondage.

The hand around her throat eased, offering a brief caress against her cheek before Blake’s presence was gone completely. Weiss felt the absence like a punch, wanting to burrow back into that powerful embrace and lose herself in the Faunus’ scent and heat, but where Blake had gone became apparent when the knife was pulled free of its sticking place in the chair, her thigh tapped with the dull side of the blade.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” Blake asked softly.

Weiss nodded, although there was a bit of reluctance. It was foolish; she knew Blake would never leave the room while she was tied up, but any sort of distance felt like a gaping void when she was being stripped down like this, unraveled until she was at her most vulnerable. There was the muted sound of a rag on metal, the sharp smell of alcohol pricking Weiss’ nose as the knife was cleaned. The Faunus’ footsteps were purposefully heavy as they moved behind her, a soft thud likely signaling the return of the pouch to Blake’s bag before another zipper was opened.

Whatever was removed was accompanied with the crinkle of plastic, light enough to barely make a noise as it was tossed onto the thick comforter of the bed. Weiss frowned in confusion when the next thing she heard was the heavy drag of glass on wood, but the source became apparent when a cup was pressed against her lips, tilted up just enough for water to wet her mouth. She drank without prompting, careful to swallow after measured sips rather than gulping and risking that she’d have to choke it down. As soon as the glass was empty, it was taken away, set aside somewhere that it made a quiet clink against the surface.

“Raise your hips for me.” Blake said.

With how she was tied, there was only so far she could shift, but Weiss did her best to obey, angling her hips up to the voice in front of her. Before she was able to consider the reason for the command, the Faunus had thrust two fingers past her entrance and a ragged gasp was torn from Weiss’ throat. The moment her body settled back against the chair, she was met with the dual sensation of being impaled on Blake’s hand and the sudden reminder of the bruises still coloring her ass from the spanking, pain blunted by the haze of pleasure left from her orgasm, the jolt that followed when she clenched tightly around the Faunus’ fingers.

“I just—” Weiss began.

“You’re going to again.” Blake’s tone left no room for argument, and she wasn’t going to use her safeword to stop the Faunus from making her come a second time, even if it was a surprise.

She was sensitive enough to whimper when Blake’s other hand sought out her clitoris again, but the Faunus was almost alarmingly gentle, fingers curving in slow thrusts to hit a particular spot inside her as the bud above was manipulated with careful strokes. This time the tension built by degrees instead of leaps and bounds, Weiss’ hips rocking forward to meet Blake’s pace without the threat of the knife to restrain her movements, and release came with a drawn-out moan, body feeling weightless and warm.

A firm kiss against Weiss’ mouth snapped her attention out of the ephemeral and back to the real, grimacing at the sweat sticking to her brow as Blake pushed the blindfold above her eyes.

“Are you still sure you want to finish this?” The Faunus asked, concern knitting a dark brow.

“Yes, sir.” Weiss responded immediately, even as she felt her heart nearly jump into her throat.

“No titles.” Blake’s mouth tightened into a thin line. “I need to be sure too.”

Loathe as she was to be pulled from such a submissive space, she could tell the Faunus was being entirely serious. “I can pronounce a six syllable word if you want to be sure that I’m cogent and able-minded, Blake. I’m afraid standing up and walking a straight line with a finger pressed to my nose isn’t viable from this position.”

“In-sub-or-di-na-tion.” Blake said, amusement flaring in golden eyes.

“In-vol-un-tar-i-ly.” Weiss quipped back.

“That’s what they all say.” The Faunus leaned forward, lips brushing hers again. “I love you.”

“And I love you.” Weiss whispered, a sigh of relief escaping her as the blindfold was pulled back down and obscured her vision.

It had taken months for her to work up the words for what she wanted, even longer to find the will to speak to Blake about it. Weiss was used to balancing a hundred tasks at once, not to mention three lovers that she indulged in a constantly rotating schedule, but some feelings ended up slipping through the cracks, buried deep until they festered. If she was being entirely honest with herself, this had started long before she ever enrolled at Beacon, left to rust like a bullet under scar tissue, poisoning the blood but so very painful to lance.

She and Blake had talked over a glass of wine, curled together on the couch with their scrolls turned off and no threat of interruption. There were no shortage of tears and even a bit of yelling, although it had been one-sided as she shouted and the Faunus listened patiently. Weiss hated that framing her desires was so often akin to pulling teeth, even knowing the ironclad restraint was what allowed her to live such a complicated life. The push-and-pull could be maddening, pressure creeping in on all sides until she wanted to burst and take the entire Schnee Dust headquarters building out just to have a moment of peace. It was what she had chosen, but sometimes she felt like she couldn’t trust that, couldn’t trust that old influence hadn’t set its roots in her decisions.

The renewed smell of alcohol pulled Weiss from her bitter musing, a hiss escaping her throat as something cold was rubbed all over her thigh, wiped from knee to hip. She heard the same crinkle of plastic from before, but this time it was torn open, followed by a soft click and the snap of latex. Weiss focused on her breathing — five seconds in, five seconds out — to center herself, knowing that she was about to have to keep very, very still.

“Say your safeword.” The Faunus was so close Weiss could feel their breath against her face and it was almost enough to make her jump.

“Sable.” Weiss said, glad the word didn’t hitch.

“If you want me to pause or stop or just give you a kiss, anything, use it. Alright?”

One more breath — five seconds in, five seconds out. “I will.”

Weiss’ eyes closed, heedless of the blindfold. The first cut barely stung, but she felt blood sluggishly rise in its wake. There was a pause then, Blake likely taking in her reaction, but after a she offered a small nod, there was another cut and that one definitely hurt, although the languor left in her body from two orgasms in quick succession seemed determined to beat back the rising tide of pain.

She quickly lost count of how many times she was cut, unable to see, unable to do anything but feel warm liquid drip down the inside of her thigh, nerves screaming only to be soothed a moment after. Weiss let out a choked sound, angry with herself. She had been shot, stabbed, and any other number of irreconcilable agonies in the heat of battle; this wouldn’t break her.

There was nothing here to plunge a blade into here, though, only the knowledge of her own skin and trust in Blake’s steady hand. Eventually, the pain had become its own sort of haze, comforting in its consistency until Weiss became aware of a damp cloth being swept over her leg, wiping her clean with infinite tenderness. She let out a quiet moan, unsure if the Faunus was finished or merely taking a break when she heard another odd sound and then felt fingers — Blake’s actual flesh, free of the leather — against her cheek.

“It’s done.” Blake said softly. “Do you want to see?”

Weiss nodded, her tongue refusing to cooperate, and the blindfold was undone, eyes blinking rapidly to adjust back to the light. Everything was a bit brighter than before, endorphins and adrenaline casting the room into sharp relief. Blake’s face was the first thing she could focus on, golden eyes filled with concern, filled with a love so intense Weiss thought her heart would simply stop beating rather than endure it a moment longer.

When she found the strength to look down, Weiss gasped. Crimson lines curved up the length of her thigh, meeting together to form Blake’s symbol, the one that had once been etched on their combat uniform at Beacon. There was a white towel in the Faunus’ other hand, streaked with blood, the disposable scalpel abandoned on the bed atop its sterile plastic case with a pair of used latex gloves. The chance of infection or complications was essentially impossible with her Aura, but Blake had spent nearly a month researching this and practicing on their own skin before coming to Weiss with an agreement to try it, and the Faunus refused to be anything but safe.

“It’s gorgeous.” Tears broke through the words, not from pain, but the loss to come. The mark was only temporary, not deep enough to scar even if she couldn’t heal it at will, but Weiss took comfort in the symbol while it lasted.

To be possessed. Weiss feared it more than anything else, carrying the snowflake of her family name on her back for so many years like a target, like a brand.

Forgetting that she was a Schnee was impossible and wouldn’t be forgiven even if she had found a way, and there was that terrified voice in the back of her mind that whispered that although she had bought her father’s share of the company in the end, outraging him to the point of severing their ties, she had still become exactly who he had wanted her to be. A pawn who moved into position after sacrificing other pieces was still a pawn, and the idea of being a figurehead instead of a person brought the froth of rage to Weiss’ tongue.

Blake had been the only one she could ask to hurt her like this, the only one who knew what it was like to bear the badge of betraying family. The White Fang hadn’t been blood, but the Faunus had made it clear long ago they may as well have been, and leaving was like cutting off a limb.

Weiss loved, dearly and deeply, everyone she shared her life with — Ruby, who came to her unconditionally, who adored her at her worst and made her best feel good enough, and Yang, who allowed her to be wild without consequence, turning bruises and the taste of ash into freedom — but Blake was the one who would lay in the darkness beside her without trying to make it brighter, allowed her to indulge in the things ugly and profane she could never otherwise bring to the surface. It would have been so easy for them to hate each other, for old wounds —  _traitor, bitch, human_  — to sever what they had, but the Faunus loved her anyway.

She wept. The tears didn’t stop even as Blake freed her from the chair and brought her down to the floor, coaxing her uncooperative limbs into the warm cradle of their lap as one arm anchored her against the Faunus’ chest. Weiss buried her face into one shoulder to quiet the worst of the sobs as Blake stroked her hair, hands gripping their shirt so hard for a moment Weiss thought she could tear it open.

“You’re mine, Weiss.” Blake whispered, “You’re Ruby’s and Yang’s and mine. You’re not his.”

“Some days it still feels like you should hate me.” Weiss sniffled, swallowing past a hard knot in her throat. “Sometimes I want you to.”

“I know.” Blake pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “But I’m more stubborn than you’ll ever be, heiress.”

Weiss was startled by the volume of the laugh that spilled from her lips, but there was relief in the sound, a burden set aside for the time being. She wasn’t sure where the lines between pain and pleasure lay in her skin at the moment, nor if she was going to be able to stand for the rest of the night, but it didn’t matter as long as the Faunus was with her.

“Let it heal, Weiss.” Blake’s hand fell from her hair to her thigh, fingers brushing so gently over the cuts that she shivered. “All of it.”

Weiss’ Aura flared, the surge of energy chilling her skin as it knit back together. Even as the symbol vanished, leaving just a few wayward drops of blood, she could still feel where it had been, trace the lines like her flesh had memorized them. Exhaustion setting deep, she collapsed back against Blake, listening for the level beat of the Faunus’ heart.

“I love you, Blake.” Weiss whispered.

“I love you too.” A calloused hand tilted up her chin so their eyes locked together. “The bath’s ready whenever you are. I know you usually like the water warm, but tepid will feel better after all this.”

“Is it entirely out of the question to be carried there?” Weiss asked, trying not to groan at the thought of getting up.

The question earned a bright smile. “I think I can manage that.”

Blake put one hand against her back and the other under her thighs before carefully getting to their feet, giving Weiss enough time to wrap both arms around the Faunus’ shoulders. It was only a walk of about twenty feet to the master bath, but she much preferred the known indignity of being carried to the possibility that she would stumble and have to be caught if she tried to do it herself.

As soon as she was lowered into the water, Weiss let out a sigh of relief. It was a bit cool to the touch, but soothing as Blake let go and she stretched out the length of the tub. There was plenty of room to spare; she had seen Yang in the bath once without managing to touch her toes to the far edge, which made it nice for accommodating more than one person. That was certainly a nice thought. Weiss glanced at the Faunus, who had dropped back down to their knees, elbows resting on the edge of the tub.

“Are you okay?” Blake asked.

“Yes.” Weiss flicked a bit of water in the Faunus’ direction, enjoying the startled look she received in turn. “Are you?”

“Well, now I’m wet,” Blake’s faint smile curved into a full grin, “but yeah, I’m great.”

“Then stop smirking at me and get in the bath.” When the Faunus’ fingers went to unknot their tie, Weiss reached out, grabbing the length of fabric instead. “What?”

“I didn’t say undress,” she noted with a raised brow, “I said come join me in the water.”

Blake let out a hum of amusement. “You know that will destroy these clothes.”

“The clothes that I paid for.” Weiss said wryly. “It takes you far too long to get out of them, so come here.”

As soon as she released her grip on the tie, the Faunus slung one leg over the edge of the tub, mindful not to bump Weiss’ legs. She started to laugh the moment Blake’s trousers soaked through, mentally writing off nearly a thousand Lien in linen and leather as some water splashed over the side and onto the bath mat. The request had been ridiculous, which was exactly why she made it, letting out a sound dangerously close to a shriek when the Faunus’ hand came down and slapped the surface of the water, splashing all the way up to her brow.

“How dare you?” Weiss demanded, grabbing Blake by the tie again to pull them on top of her.

“I’d dare and dare again.” Blake murmured, and claimed her mouth in a deep, lingering kiss.


End file.
